


what i do when you're not here

by dizzy



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, but the sexy? all dan, i mean phil is there peripherally, solo dan fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:55:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22852858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: Phil's off at Vidcon and Dan's just... home alone.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 22
Kudos: 189





	what i do when you're not here

Dan sends Phil off with a kiss and a pat on the bum and a few extra reassurances. Phil's buzzing with energy and it's nice to see - a strange and new sort of nice when Dan isn't sharing it, lost inside his own nerves. 

He thought on the day itself he might feel regret, something dark and sinewy wrapping itself around his mind and tugging him into all the bad shadow places his psyche can go. He thinks Phil thought that too, and maybe that's why yesterday felt like eggshells; it was just the podcast, just nipping out for a couple hours and then back home for board games and sweet snacks and a steeped sense of normality. 

But Dan was fine yesterday, and Dan's fine today. He stands in the middle of the entryway with silence ringing in his ears and then stretches, popping his back. 

He's had a list of _coulds_ and _mights_ in his head, ready on his tongue every time Phil asked in a clumsily casual way. He could go for a run. He could do some shopping. He could even ring up a friend, see if anyone wants to catch a movie. But, he thinks, twisting side to side, feeling the stretch in his muscles in a particularly nice way, maybe staying inside sounds better. 

* 

He doesn't go upstairs. If he does he'll lose his time to the vortex of the screens. He wants to avoid all the people asking where he is but more than that he thinks he wants to retain this peace about him. 

He walks sock-footed into the bedroom. The covers are still a mess from waking up. Phil's left a towel on the floor and the light still on in the bathroom. Dan follows the trail and tidies as he goes. Screw the cap back on the tub of gel. Hang the towel over the rack. Use his foot to adjust the bath mat back into place. Tighten the tap where Phil never quite turns hard enough, stopping the incessant drip drip drip. 

He pauses to yank his sock off. The toes are wet from Phil's almost magical ability to get puddles of water places he hasn't even stepped after he's out of the shower. He drops them in the hamper and then turns the bathroom light off and steps back into the bedroom. 

* 

He didn't really set out to do this, but instead of putting fresh socks on he just takes his shirt off instead, and crawls into bed. 

He lies right in the middle, breathing in deep to feel his lungs expand and then let it out noisily. 

Nap? 

Mm, he thinks. 

It's tempting. 

He rests his hand on his stomach and lets it slide down slowly. 

Something else is more tempting. 

He's not hard, but he cups himself anyway. He curls his fingers around the soft bulge of himself, finding the shape and fitting the material to it. He starts to get hard almost immediately, imagining the blood pulse and pump through his body. 

He pushes a hand underneath, scratching through the trimmed pubic hair and then tugging on himself. 

He sighs, long and deep. It's a slow, sleepy pleasure that he doesn't try to rush. 

He has all day. 

* 

He likes his body. 

It's taken him a long time to get to this point, and there are still days where he can't stand looking in a mirror for too long. 

But most of the time... most of the time he likes his body. 

It keeps him healthy and alive. It houses a beating heart and a thinking brain. It adapts the best it can when he pushes it too far. Maybe a few chemicals got a little mixed up and fucked around, maybe he's got freakishly big hands and facial defects - but this is the body he inhabits, and he knows how to coax pleasure out of it. 

He strokes a hand flat down the middle of his chest just soaking in the touch. Fingertips leave tingling trails over sensitive spots, grazing his neck, his nipples, the sparse trail of hair under his belly button. It's not the same as being touched by someone else. There's no surprise element to it, but that just means he gets a thrill of anticipation with every pass over a new patch of skin he touches. 

For a moment he imagines the scene out of body - floating above himself, looking down. Seeing long legs and long arms and messy hair and his eyes closed. He knows his own face too well but the rest is a picture cobbled together of imagination and mirrors and strange shower angles. 

He likes it, though. He slides a hand down between his legs and pushes his palms against his thighs, spreading them wide. He likes it and he's ready for more. 

*

He loses track of how long Phil's been gone, pausing only to answer the errant texts that become more and more sparse until they stop completely. The panel's done and he's meeting fans now and Dan doesn't miss it at all. If anything he feels the rush of relief and having at least a couple hours left. 

* 

He's breathing harder, cock hard against his hip as he works a small egg-shaped vibrator over his skin, starting with his nipples. It would be wrong to say they have a massive collection of toys, but it would also be wrong to say they have none at all. 

This one is his favorite. 

*

He's sweating now. He feels it prickling his hairline and against the small of his back and the backs of his knees. He's so hard that his foreskin is snugged back and the head of his cock is an angry bruised color, leaking against his stomach. 

He hasn't touched himself in almost half an hour, not there. He's working the vibrator against the underside of his balls, pressed hard to his taint. It's less like a punch of pleasure there and more like steady rolling waves of it cresting higher and higher the longer he leaves it there until he feels like he's going to climb out of his skin or maybe just drown in it. 

*

He'll have to change the sheets before Phil comes home, or at least put them in the wash. He's got lube out and he's always messy with it - hard not to be, he realizes, though it won't stop him from always telling Phil the mess they make is his fault. It's just law; if Phil's in the room, and there's a mess, it's Phil's mess. Dan plans on putting that in the vows they're maybe a year or two shy of having agreed to exchange. 

There's no Phil to blame though, just Dan wrecked out on a bed with lube glistening on his thighs and between his legs and against the fingers he's using to make a tunnel that his cock is thrusting up into. He thinks the fitted sheet has probably popped off one corner of the bed from the force he's using to dig his feet into the mattress. 

The vibrator is abandoned off to the side, battery depleted. He'd almost cried at the loss of that specific sensation, skin feeling strange and balls aching as it fell away. He's moved on from that, to that carnal urge his body has to _fuck_ , even if it's just his own fist clenched tight and slicked up. 

*

He ends up on his knees, face buried in Phil's pillow while his own is shoved underneath his belly. 

His phone buzzes. His eyes feel bleary and aching when he squints at it. 

Phil's leaving the convention soon. 

Fuck, has he really been doing this for hours? 

The ache in his dick that feels like borderline pain says yes, he has. 

He lets out a keening noise and drives his hips forward again because this close to the edge, he can't stop. He has a hand still around himself, humping into it with a pure and single-minded drive. His thighs are sore and his back holds a dull pain but he can't stop, won't stop, fucking needs it-

He bites down onto the pillow and fucks his fist with uncharacteristic lack of coordination, a desperation coloring everything that is pure and selfish and primal. When he comes he feels it hot against his fingers and muffled into the pillow under him. He squeezes and pulls and feels wetness at his eyes and it seems to go on forever and ever and ever. 

When he's finally finished he slumps down onto a sweat and lube and come soaked bed and pants for breath. 

*

When Phil walks in, the washing machine is going and Dan's hair is damp from a shower. He has a cup of coffee ready for Phil and a chamomile for himself. 

"Hi," Phil says, glowing with a satisfaction that makes Dan feel pure and simple pride. 

He pulls Phil in for a kiss that Phil accepts as the reward it is. 

"Tell me all about it. How many pride flags?" 

"Oh my god, _so many_ pride flags," Phil says, then drops down onto the sofa with an 'oof.' He launches right into stories of the day as he sips his coffee gratefully. “Also, I have egg on my socks and foam in my hair-”

Dan curls up with his legs tucked under him and listens.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to sarah for beta reading <3
> 
> [read and reblog on tumblr](https://alittledizzy.tumblr.com/post/190972000265/what-i-do-when-youre-not-here-danphil-but)


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